Addison's Skeletons
by AdenaMentzel
Summary: Yeah, title says it all. Gonna be basically a character study on Addi, starting with reflections on affair...just read it, k? My first Grey's fic, so be nice. Please review.
1. Skeletons

**A/N:** This is my first shot at Grey's, so please be kind. I wanted to try to tackle Addi, but she's very complex, I've discovered. I hope it isn't too OOC. Please review! Probably will be a chapter fic.

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I wanted to hurt Derek Shepherd. I'm not going to lie about it.

The thing no one knows, that no one cares to know, is the reason why.

Derek, even being the sweet and seemingly harmless guy that he is, villainized me. He made everyone despise me…er, well, almost everyone. He certainly influenced the interns, at least.

Immediately after the "incident" everyone in the hospital hated me. My affair even trickled down to some of the patients.

Anyway, as I was saying, nobody cared about my reason for doing it.

I cried when he left. I begged and pleaded him to stay, which must have meant something to him. He knows, actually everyone knows, that I don't cry and I certainly never beg. I was more sincere that night than I have ever been. That was the rawest moment of my life, or at least my adult life. Regardless, it was the rawest moment of my life that isn't a secret. How could I possibly be ashamed that I was desperate not to lose the one thing in my life that I loved?

I didn't mean to carry on with Mark. The first time that I slept with him I was pretty sloshed. I didn't know what I was doing. I woke up sore, terrified, alone and with a major hangover. Actually, I felt a little like I had been drugged, but that doesn't matter. I felt dirty. The sheets were bloody and had taken on that lovely (note the sarcasm) crust. I didn't know what had happened. Then Mark came out of the shower. He spoke sweetly to me as he dressed and left.

I was vulnerable to his loving words because I hadn't been feeling any warm fuzzies from Derek in a long time. Derek had buried himself in his work and I had noticed he had been spending more and more time at the hospital and away from me. Whenever I was happy he would only drag me down, or worse yet he wouldn't even show until after I had fallen asleep. I knew that he meant well, but that didn't make it any easier.

For what it's worth, I am positive that even if everyone knew my reasons for continuing my affair with Mark it wouldn't make an ounce of difference. Although it started out as pure vulnerability—I don't even know how I ended up with Mark that night—I realized it was the only way that I could get Derek's attention. It was horrible, yes, but I've frequently been called Satan, so it shouldn't be too surprising. On another level, I knew that I didn't deserve Derek. My subconscious was trying to punish me for being unworthy.

I do know that I am a bad person. I don't need to be reminded. I have done many things in my life that make me unworthy of anything good, and Derek was the best thing that ever happened to me. I didn't deserve him, so by doing the most despicable thing I could think of, sleeping with his best friend, my evil subconscious ruined everything I needed.

I didn't realize that once he was gone I would be the most destroyed that I had ever been, and believe me, I've been through a lot.


	2. Repressed Memories

**A/N:** Thanks for reading, guys! I hope you continue to dig the story. It'll probably be a bunch of lil Addek moments. Maybe I'll add a lil' plot line, too...Anyway, keep reading and reviewing-- it makes my life! I love you all mwah. Okay, now seriously, go read my story and give feedback :)

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Repressed memories.

They used to haunt me.

It's not that I didn't remember _any_ of the horrible things that happened to me because the memories that I had certainly caused me enough pain, believe me. However, there were definitely things that I repressed. Most of these didn't surface until I met Derek.

Sometimes it seems completely ridiculous to me that I ever wanted to hurt Derek. He helped me through so much that was going on in my life, with coping with everything from my horrible past—it's a wonder that I even survived my childhood at all. Somewhere along the way I lost track of how much Derek meant to me, how much I needed him. I can't believe that I lost sight of what mattered. I'll be paying for what I did to him for the rest of my life.

--Flashback—

(Several years prior, Shepherd brownstone, NY)

I awoke to the sound of screaming only to discover that I had been the source of the disruption. Embarrassed, I looked around, trying to find Derek. Then, not seeing him in the bed, I starting to panic. I called his name frantically.

Not ten seconds later he came bolting through the bedroom door, concern evident on his face. He held me, just…held me. It was magical.

"What's wrong, Addy?" he asked calmly and soothingly. I was still trying to catch my breath as I had woken up in a state of panic, and thus slapped him in response. After a moment of his confusion and questioning start, I elaborated, now able to breathe normally.

"Where _were_ you, Derek?" He looked down at the floor, blushing ever so slightly.

"I was…doing something." I raised an eyebrow.

"Could you be a little more vague?" I fumed.

"Look, Addy, before you--"

"Derek!" He sighed, clenching his jaw slightly.

"Just let me show you, okay?" I nodded, though slightly confused and still upset. He disappeared out the doorway. I could hear his footsteps descending the stairs, then shuffling around the foyer and kitchen. Exasperated, I glanced at the clock. I groaned.

"Four o'clock already?" I flopped back down onto the bed. My eyes drifted heavily shut, then suddenly I was seized by a vivid, dream-like memory.

Flashback

There was a small red-headed girl, myself. I must have been only about five-years-old. There was a large shadow-like figure approaching. Suddenly, I could see his face clearly. He had thick, hideous eyebrows and huge icy blue eyes. His jaw was set, angular and protruded at an odd angle. I could see the veins protruding from his throat and temples. His hair was shaven close to the scalp, but its dark roots were still visible. He was Caucasian and built up like a body builder. He had tattoos around his arms—I could still see, even in my mind's eye I could discern the tribal bands and random images that littered his skin.

I remembered terror—complete, paralyzing terror. He seized me and threw my crying little body against a wall. He dropped his pants…I could clearly see his erection, it was right in my line of sight. He pushed my pink dress up to my as yet undeveloped chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, or rather my younger self did, and I could literally feel his flesh-tearing thrusts as sobs wracked my small body. He covered my mouth and nose with a large, callused hand. I felt hands on my shoulders…



I was suddenly jolted back to reality.

"Addy?" I heard his voice before I opened my eyes. I whimpered and he pulled me up into a semi-upright position, which was in actuality mostly me lying limply curled up in a ball kind of in his lap. I wrapped my arms desperately around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder.

For the longest time, he didn't say anything. He just held me and let me cry. Eventually, I pulled away, wiping my eyes hastily.

"Are you okay?" Concern was etched across his features. I hated that I made him worry. I wanted to say that I was fine, but I knew that I wasn't and I really didn't have the energy to fight him about it. I shook my head.

He looked into my eyes and gently cupped the side of my face with his palm.

"Tell me." I blinked.

"What?"

"About your dream. Tell me what happened."

"It was…more like a memory." I mumbled. He continued looking into my eyes sympathetically. My eyes welled with tears and I was suddenly uncomfortable under this scrutiny. I looked away and pushed away from him.

"Addison, you can tell me, it's okay. You're okay." If I had been better rested and more of myself I probably would have yelled at him for patronizing, but I didn't.

"I know…I just…" I stammered.

"It's okay. Whenever you're ready, I'm here. I just need you to know that I'm here." He stood abruptly.

"Don't leave…" I sounded like I was that broken little five-year-old version of myself. I didn't recognize my own voice—it was so small and fragile. I could tell that this scared him, but still he spoke soothingly, delicately.

"I'm not leaving. I'll be back in a minute." My lower lip trembled and he noticed. My behavior made me want to vomit. This was not me, I was not weak, and I was not vulnerable. I was Addison Montgomery-Shepard for crying out loud! He spoke reassuringly and I wanted to punch him.

"Hey, I promise. Not even a minute…twenty seconds, tops." He smiled gently. "It's okay. You'll be okay." I relented, nodding slightly. He kissed my forehead and squeezed my shoulder. "Twenty seconds." He repeated. I smiled so slightly that it was barely visible, but it was there, and he seemed to notice it.

I could hear him in the kitchen again. Sure enough, twenty seconds later he burst back into the room, balancing breakfast precariously on a tray as he entered. Despite my current pained state due to the memory that had just assaulted me, I couldn't help but smile at how adorable her was. He placed the tray down at the foot of the bed gently.

"I told you I'd be back." I picked up a cup of coffee, nursing it mainly to warm my hands.

"Thank you." He rubbed my upper arm lightly. "I think I'm ready."

"Okay." He rested his hands on my knees, running his fingers over my upper thighs gently. "Okay."


	3. Dying

**Author's note: **So this chapter is longer. I hope you like it. I'm not sure I like the end of this chapter, so your input would be excellent. Please review, it makes my life. Sorry the update took so long...

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I hesitantly told Derek all about the dream that had been haunting me. I could tell by the expression on his face that it was painful for him to hear about this horrible thing that happened to me. I could tell that he felt helpless because there was nothing that he could do to take this pain away from me. It was there permanently; he couldn't undo the past. He didn't even know her then. I felt guilty about telling him. I couldn't look at him; I couldn't just let him hold me. I pushed away from him. He let me push away, giving me space, letting me finish speaking.

There was silence in the room. I had finished telling my story, and by now I had my back turned to him, my knees drawn up to my chest. My entire body was curled up tightly around itself. Derek said nothing. It made me nervous, extremely nervous.

"I…I'm sorry…I shouldn't…" I stammered softly, not sure what I was trying to say. I ran quickly to the bathroom, locking the door before promptly vomiting, barely making it to the toilet.

Derek knocked on the door a couple minutes later.

"Add? You okay in there?" I sighed and unlocked the door, letting him in before sliding back down to the floor. He took my face in his hands. "I'm sorry." I looked at him, puzzled.

"What to you have to apologize for?"

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Addie. I'm sorry. I wish I could take it away, Addie, if I could, I would."

"What took you so long?" I asked, weakly. He looked into my eyes softly, seeing the hurt it had caused.

"I'm sorry, honey, I didn't know how to respond. I was shell-shocked. I'm sorry." He said, taking me into his arms. I resisted his embrace, but he persisted.

"Derek…" He looked me in the eye.

"Addie, I am sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry. Are you okay now?" I shrugged, pushing him away again. "Addie…please don't do this. Please talk to me, I know that I handled this wrong, but I want to make this right…I need to make this right. I need to help you, Addie, you're my Addie. I love you." He was so sweet that it positively melted my heart. I couldn't help but cry. "Addie, what's wrong? Please tell me, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Derek…" I laughed through my tears. "You are so good to me. I am certain that I don't deserve you."

"Hey, hey, where's that coming from, Add? You're my Addie. We fit together, Add, so no more of that nonsense, okay?" I nodded sheepishly. "Are you hungry, baby?" I shook my head.

"I'm so sorry, Der, I know you went to all this trouble…" Tears were again streaming down my face.

"Shh, it's okay. Are you gonna be okay to work today?" I nodded hesitantly. "Addie…" he reprimanded. I sighed.

"You're right, Der, you know you are." He laughed softly and rubbed my back lightly before glancing down at his watch.

"Shit." I sighed. That couldn't be good. "Add…I'm so sorry…I was supposed to be in ten minutes ago…are you going to be okay?" I held my breath in and let it out slowly, willing my tears not to fall and betray my attempt to be strong.

"Like I have a choice in the matter," I said, trying to lighten the mood a little, however the hurt in my voice betrayed my intentions. "Shit…I didn't mean…" He held his index finger to my lips.

"Addie, answer my question." His eyes were pleading.

"How long is your shift?" He looked at me sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, Addie, it's supposed to be a 24 hour block…but if you need me…" I shrugged it off.

"No, Derek, really, it's fine. The hospital needs you."

"Baby, you need me. You're my first priority, you know that, right?" I looked down, tears hot in my eyes.

"Derek…" He moved closer to me, lifting my chin.

"Addison…" he demanded firmly.

"It's nothing…it's just…"

"It's just what?" he asked softly.

"You're always so busy…but…I can't…I feel guilty…needing you. I'm not dying…"

"Add, there is more than one way to die. If you are hurting…" I rolled my eyes.

"You know what I mean, Derek."

"Addison, I'm serious."

"So am I! Derek, you need to go. You're already late." I insisted. He gave in.

"Fine, but I'm coming back to check on you. And you can't stop me. And don't worry about the chief, I'll tell him you aren't feeling well, okay?" I nodded rather glumly. He kissed me gently on the forehead. "I love you, Addie."

"I love you, too, Derek." He went to call and say he would be a little late, and then proceeded to get ready to leave. Just as he was about to walk out the door, he came to where I was on the bed.

"Addie, call me if you need me. I'm serious, it doesn't matter how dumb you think it is, just let me know. Promise me you'll do that."

"Derek, I'm not dying!"

"Addison!"

"Okay, okay, I promise! Geez. Get out of here already!" I kissed him passionately, not wanting to let go, completely contradicting my former statement.

"Bye, Addiebug."

"Bye Icky…" he stuck his tongue out at the stupid nickname. I laughed briefly and waited for him to leave before flopping down on the bed and covering my entire body with the down quilt. _Maybe I am dying…maybe I'm just too dense to see it…_

--Present--

The worst part about this repressed memory, I knew, was the fact that it wasn't the only time that I had been sexually taken advantage of. I hadn't repressed the other experiences, although I hadn't told Derek about them all, either. I was afraid that he wouldn't love me anymore, which was stupid considering that I been with him for about a decade before we got married.

Chronologically, the next time that I was abused like that I had been fourteen…but it was worse, in a way.

--Flashback—

(Same day, several years earlier, Bellevue Hospital)

I got in the car and started driving. I had no idea where I was going, but I couldn't stand to be in the brownstone alone any longer. I wanted to work, although apparently Derek had warned everyone in the hospital not to let me, thus I was not working. I was sitting in an on-call room and had yet to see Derek since I got there.

"Addie?" A deep voice shook me from my reverie. I lifted my head from where it rested against my knees.

"Hi Mark." I shifted into a more open posture, one more suitable for conversation than my former curled up ball.

"I thought you weren't working today…" I sighed.

"Well, obviously I'm not. Derek won't let me." Mark laughed.

"That's what you get for marrying a Shepherd." I slapped him, but laughed anyway. "Why won't Derek let you work?"

"Because he's an overprotective moron."

"But you wouldn't have it any other way, blah, blah. But what specifically happened this time?" I shrugged.

"I had a bad dream." Mark burst out laughing.

"Wh—what? That…Derek won't let you work because of that?" I nodded and Derek walked into the room.

"What's so funny? Add—Addie? What're you doing here?"

"Well, I'm _not_ working…" Mark cut me off.

"Der, seriously man, you're not letting her work because she had a nightmare?" Derek glared at me.

"It's not as simple as that." Mark raised his hands in defense.

"Hey, I'm just saying—Add is a grown woman. If she thinks that's all it was…"

"Thank you, Mark, for your input, now kindly leave me with my wife." Mark walked out and Derek approached me, kneeling down before me. "Okay, nice try, but why are you really here?"

"Derek I…I need to talk to you." He tucked a renegade strand of hair delicately behind my ear.

"Is something wrong?" A look of concern crossed his face. I gripped my knees nervously.

"There's just something I need to tell you, because it's been bothering me." He looked confused and still worried. "Okay…it's not a huge deal, so don't worry too much, but just…"

"Addie, spill it."

"I was raped." He sighed.

"Add, you told me that--" I held up my hand, cutting him off.

"I was raped more than once." His eyes bugged out. "The memory that I just remembered today…that, as far as I know, was the first time, but the other times…I remembered them. I just never told you because…I was afraid." He touched my shoulder gently.

"Oh, Add…"

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have kept it from you."

"Add…is that all?" I looked at him quizzically.

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"I lied to you."

"No you didn't, Addison, you were just scared and vulnerable. It's fine. It would have been nice to have known about all this so I could have helped you through it, but it's okay. I'm glad you told me. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what." Derek's pager went off and I raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"So much for being here." I stated bitterly. He shot me a look, then noticing my sadness, his expression softened.

"Bug, if you need me…"

"No, Derek, go…I'll be fine." He looked skeptical, and opened his mouth to say something. I kissed him softly, cutting him off. "They need you more. Go." He nodded, stroking my hair.

"Please don't do anything crazy, okay?" I nodded. "You should go home, Addie."

"Okay," I agreed sadly. He lifted my chin.

"Hey, I'll be there as soon as I can. I promise." He kissed me gently. "I love you."

"I love you, too."


	4. Sorry

**Author's note:** This chapter is a bit odd, but I hope you like it...please review.

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--Present— 

I didn't know how I was going to make it through the next several hours without Derek, but I knew that I would go crazy in the hospital not being able to work. So I did the next best thing—I went to the local bar.

--Flashback—

(Same day, Gotham Bar)

"ADDISON!" I spun around on my bar stool, nearly falling off of it. I was very, very drunk. I knew that I shouldn't have done what I did, but it was the only thing that I knew for sure would help. Derek was furious, I could tell simply from his tone of voice, and honestly, I was frightened. "Addison, what the hell were you thinking?" When I cowered, he adjusted his tone. "Addie, I was going out of my mind worrying about you. I couldn't find you anywhere and I was afraid that you had done something…" he shuddered, not wanting to acknowledge the possibility.

"I'm sorry, Derek baby…" I slurred drunkenly, slipping my arms around him. I kissed him passionately, sloppily. He pushed me away.

"Addison, stop. You're drunk. Let's just go home. We'll get your car in the morning." Without warning, my eyes filled with tears and I began sobbing in his arms, mutter incoherently. He simply picked me up, bridal style, grabbed my coat and purse and carried me out of the bar, putting me down in the passenger seat of his car.

(Next morning, Shepherd Residence)

Derek wasn't in the bed when I awoke the following morning, which made sense. He had probably gone back to the hospital after bringing me home. I felt like shit, obviously, and regretted even going to the bar at all.

I was suddenly nauseous and ran to the bathroom. When I had finished expelling the contents of my stomach, I fell back miserably on the floor. There was a soft knock on the door, which prompted me to hold my head.

Derek entered slowly and offered me a cup of coffee, which I took gratefully after another round of vomiting. He kneeled before me and pushed my sweaty hair back from my face gently. He looked deep into my eyes.

"Addison, I'm so sorry that I wasn't there for you." I cocked my head in confusion.

"For what?"

"I knew that you needed to talk, but I let you get away with leaving. I could have lost you last night." His expression was sober and pained. I squirmed uncomfortably, brushing him off.

"Don't be such a drama queen. I'm fine." He put hand on my shoulder.

"Addison, what would have happened if you had gotten in that car last night?" He asked, tears brimming in his eyes and threatening to spill over. "You could have died, Addie, and that would have been on me."

"But you came, Derek, and I'm fine. That's all that matters."

"Addison, you are not fine. Physically you might be fine, but I know you aren't." I had to be sick again. He held my hair back and rubbed my back soothingly. When I finished, he pulled me onto his lap. "You need to talk to me. What's going on?"

"Derek…"

"No, Addison, I'm not letting you out of this. You went to drink yourself into oblivion last night, you need to talk to me." I sighed, defeated.

"It's not a big deal."

"You were raped."

"I think I've dealt with it."

"Well, I think you need to talk. So do it."

"Fine…" I relented, "I was fourteen, when…you know." He nodded.

"It's okay, go on. I'm right here." I got sick again, just thinking about what had happened. He handed me a glass of water that he had placed beside the sink when he had entered the room.

"Um, the uh…the guy that did it was eighteen. He was huge." I shuddered, and he held me tight. "He came over to my house, well, he had been telling me that he loved me and…" I vomited, "I believed him. I told him I didn't want to do it, but he ruffied me. In my own house. My parents were away, again, on business, and my aunt was supposed to be looking after me, but…lord knows where she was. When I woke up…the sheets were bloody and my body was sore and bruised. I couldn't walk, and I didn't leave my bed for a week, except to be sick."

"Oh, Addie…"

"I never reported the guy. I never told anyone. I thought I could get over it on my own. I thought I was stronger than those other girls…" I sobbed into his shoulder. "I thought I was over it."

"Addison…you know how it is with rape victims…" I glared.

"I was convinced I wasn't like them, even when I was learning about it, learning how to care for rape victims."

"You were in denial." He stated plainly. I nodded.

"There's…there's one other thing." I said. He looked at me reassuringly. "I…got pregnant." He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and I got scared. "I'm sorry Derek…I…I…" He raised his index finger to my lips.

"Shh, I don't care. It's okay. What happened then? Did you take it to term?"

"I was going to." He looked at me inquisitively, urging me to go on.

"But…"

"But I told the guy."

"And? Did he convince you to abort?" I shook my head and let out a shaky breath.

"He attacked me. You know those scars I have?" He nodded, in a state of shock. "Well…you probably don't want to hear it, but he was…"

"He was what, sweetie? It's okay, you can tell me."

"He was psychotic. He locked me in his closet for weeks; he was crazed. He told me it was all my fault, that I was worthless. He came back…he abused me. Then one night I tried to get away, I got all the way to my house, and he tried to kill me. Thank God my dad actually came home that night. He saved my life…but he never knew about the guy, he never knew what happened." I was a complete mess by now, sobbing so hard that I couldn't breathe, starting to hyperventilate.

"Addie, Addie you need to calm down. Shhh, Addison, you need to breathe. Come one, deep breaths, baby…" He had seen my through panic attacks before, but never like this. Derek turned on the cold-water faucet in the shower and held me up, propping me so that the jet stream washed over my face. It left me shivering, but solved the problem after a few minutes. I was completely exhausted and let myself lie limply in his arms, just focusing on breathing. I was still slightly shaky, but overall okay. He carried me and dried me off before changing me into dry clothes and gently tucking me into the bed.

When I looked at him, he was soaked to the bone and freezing, his concern displayed prominently on his face. I smiled gratefully at him. He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"Get some rest, Addie, you need it." I looked up at him, panicked.

"Derek, don't leave me!" I reached out, employing a death grip on his hand. I saw him wince. "Sorry, I…"

"I'm not leaving, Add, I promise, and I will be here when you wake up, I promise."

"Hold me, Derek." I pleaded. He nodded.

"Okay. Just…let me get changed, okay?" He was shivering. I blushed.

"I'm sorry…"

"Addison, stop apologizing!" he said playfully, his eyes smiling.

"I'm sorry…shit, I did it again, didn't I?" he laughed softly and kissed me again, then changed out of his wet clothes. He slid into the bed behind me, wrapping his arms around me such that we were spooning. The contact with his body calmed me instantaneously, and I was out within moments.


	5. Anniversary

**A/N:** Hey, sorry this took such a long time...but here it is :) Please, please R&R.

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--Present— 

That was one of the only times I allowed Derek to see me cry. Actually, that was one of the only times I had ever truly broken down in front of anyone. He should have been able to see that the instance of me crying and begging was equally as difficult and painful for me as the instance of me telling him about my rape.

Granted, the rape and abuse was obviously much more traumatic, especially physically, but the pain was the same. I knew that the actual cause of marriage's disintegration was not that I had slept with Mark, but rather it had been a long, drawn out process over the many years that we had been married for.

The first couple of years of my marriage were wonderful, and he was there for me much like in the way that I just described. He was wonderful and sweet and caring and he was my Derek. We loved each other first, and everything else came second. As time went on, however, Derek began to grow away from me.

--Flashback—

(Several Months Earlier, Bellevue—On-call Room)

"Addison, I don't know what time I am coming home, okay? I'll be there when I can!" I refused to let tears come out of my eyes. I couldn't believe that I was so weak as to even need to suppress them—since when did I get teary-eyed?

"Derek, I am only saying this one more time," I said evenly, "I am not going to spend our anniversary without you there, so you are going to be there. That's the way it works." I could see the rage in his eyes.

"Addison, this is ridiculous! I have to go into surgery!"

"Derek, you do not need to do this surgery right now! It is not crucial to the patient!"

"Do you really want this patient's death to be on you?" I clenched my teeth.

"This is a ten hour surgery that was scheduled for _tomorrow_, Derek, tomorrow!" I threw my hands up, "Fine, I give up. This is obviously more important to you than I am." I shoved past him in an attempt to leave. He leaned in and kissed me, and I slapped him squarely, glaring at him furiously. "You don't get to do that," I seethed, storming out of the room.

(Early the next morning, Shepherd Brownstone)

Derek, predictably, had not shown up the previous night. I hadn't been able to sleep at all because of it. It was our anniversary—how could he just blow it off so carelessly?

More than once it had crossed my mind that he just didn't want to be with me. Why else would he have been so adamant about doing a surgery that was scheduled for the next day rather than coming home to me? The patient's condition probably would have improved over night, he needed to build up the strength to make it through the operation, so it obviously wasn't that surgery was in the best interest of the patient…

I, Addison Forbes Montgomery-Shepherd, had cried for much of that night. I wouldn't let Derek know that, and as a matter of fact, I never told him. I needed to maintain control of the situation, and that meant keeping my emotions in check.

In order to better keep control of the situation, I had locked the bedroom door after setting up a place for Derek on the couch. I left his anniversary present on the pillow. I did this around two o'clock, when I could no longer pretend that he was going to make it home anytime even resembling that night.

I heard Derek come home at eight in the morning, approximately fourteen hours after the last time that I talked to him. He didn't say anything to me or scream or anything—as far as I could tell, he just…went to sleep, meanwhile I was the one tossing and turning.

I finally just decided to get up around nine, at which point I showered despite the fact that I wasn't working until the evening. I, unlike Derek, had cleared several hours from my schedule being that it had been our anniversary, and I wanted to enjoy them. Besides, it was useless to lie in bed if I wasn't going to sleep. So, being the perfectionist that I am, I started cleaning.

In attempting to clean cobwebs from the corners of our high ceilings in the kitchen, I slipped from the stool that I was standing on, falling to the ground and bashing my head against the island. Derek stumbled sleepily down the stairs to see what the commotion was, observed the damage, then went back to bed. I dropped my bleeding head into my hands, sobbing, never having felt more alone in my life.


	6. Indifference

**A/N:** So yeah, here's the update. Please R&R!!!!!

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(Same day, Shepherd Brownstone)

It wasn't until I regained consciousness that I even knew that I had lost it. When I awoke, I found myself on the couch that I had made for Derek to sleep on the previous night. I saw the gift that I had left for him, still wrapped, sitting on the small table beside the couch. He clearly didn't care enough about me to want to open it, and that broke my heart.

My head was throbbing. I lifted a hand up to it to find that it had been bandaged, suddenly recalling my fall and Derek's ensuing indifference. Why couldn't my husband just love me? He used to, a long, long time ago, it seemed. I couldn't put my finger on exactly when that had changed, but suddenly there was no warmth or affection there, and I was alone. Alone was the one thing that I didn't want to be, not again. For my whole life I was so alone—I was alienated because I was rich, because I was unattractive, because I was a band geek, because my mother never loved me, neither did my father, mostly because no one was ever there for me. Because of that, I had built up strong armor that nobody could penetrate.

That all changed when Derek came along. He was persistent—he even proposed to me twice! He slowly had managed to strip away my defenses, brick by brick taking down the walls I had built…and now? Now I was vulnerable, defenseless and alone. But the worst part was that he didn't see me. He didn't even care anymore.

I heard noise coming from the kitchen and remembered that someone had bandaged my head for me, clearly seeing as it was sutured and I would never have done that to myself.

I tried not to let myself think that it was Derek who had done it. I knew it would only hurt more when I found out that it wasn't…but what else was I supposed to think? He was my husband, he was supposed to take care of me—he vowed to, at the stupid ceremony that he had insisted upon. The marriage that he proposed twice. Why couldn't he have just let me be?

When I heard the footsteps, I knew that it couldn't be Derek. First of all, I recognized the insistent thumping of the shoes on the hardwood floor, and second, Derek generally didn't wear shoes in the house. And always yelled and Mark for not taking them off…

I knew that it was Mark before I even saw his face, and I wondered how long he had been there, how long I had been out, and whether or not Derek had called him. Mostly, though, I was relieved that someone was there for me. Even though I wished it had been my husband, I was still grateful that _someone_ cared about me. Maybe I wasn't quite as alone as I thought. And maybe, just maybe, Mark could make it all better.

I could hear Mark approaching the couch, so I sat up quickly, an action which caused my head to spin.

"Whoa, careful there Ads," he said with a slight hint of humor in his voice. I smiled at him gently.

"Hey Mark. When did you get here?" He sat on the arm of the couch,

"I don't know, maybe about an hour or so?" I glanced at my watch. It was already one p.m. I groaned. "What's wrong?" he inquired.

"Oh, nothing. I just had the most miserable anniversary of my life—alone I might add." He looked at me sympathetically.

"Did Derek even come home at all?"

"You mean you didn't see him today?"

"Nope. I came over here looking for him, which was when I saw you in the kitchen. I didn't want to leave until I was sure you were okay…"

"Well, to answer your question, yes he did come home—but not until eight this morning. And actually, he came down after I fell and hit my head…but he just…left." I could feel tears stinging the backs of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall, however it was useless to try to hide my hurt from Mark. He could read me like a book—the way Derek used to.

Mark sat down on the couch beside me and pulled me into a warm, firm embrace, and I could no longer hold the tears in. I let myself melt into his arms, sobbing.

--Present—

I depended on Mark more than I should have over the course of my marriage, but I didn't know where else to turn. It wasn't ever sexual, except for that one night when Derek caught us. I knew that it was weird that I saw more of my husband's best friend than I did of my husband, but I had nowhere else to turn, and I didn't know what to do. It wasn't like I didn't try to get Derek's attention or tell him what was wrong, or that I needed him—but he never listened. He never seemed to get it. On occasion, he would promise to be better, but he never kept his word.

--Flashback—

(Shepherd Brownstone, 8pm same day)

Mark and I spent the day together watching crappy movies and eating even crappier food that promised to clog up our arteries. It was the best day that I had in a long time, and I was in love with the comfortable feeling that came with it. I also enjoyed cuddling with Mark…it was friendly and made me feel safe, and more importantly, wanted. I just wanted the little things like cuddling and bad movies back—and since I wasn't getting them from my husband, I accepted them from wherever I could get them.

Mark left at six because he had a surgery scheduled, leaving me alone. He kissed my forehead gently before leaving, and the feeling that it left made the absence of affection in my marriage seem all the more unbearable. I sat on the couch, wallowing in self-pity with a pint of some variety of frozen cream with a lethal amount of chocolate, or so the name suggested. I found it didn't have quite enough, but then the void that I was trying to fill could not be with any quantity of calories. The pain was too deep. But I ate it anyway.

So I sat there, pathetically, trying to console myself, trying to understand what I had done to cause my husband not to desire me. Had I been too distant? Did I come on too strong? Was he tired of trying to break my shell? I knew this day would come—that was why I rejected his first proposal…but he was so sweet to me, he reassured me again and again, telling me that this would never happen. I cursed myself for being so foolish.

Derek came home far earlier than I expected, not having come home at eight (and stayed) for several months, though it wasn't entirely his fault, I mean, we are surgeons, but he could have done more. To tell the truth, I was busier than he was and had a heftier income—I just never let him know it. How he never found out, I'm not quite sure. Anyway, when he walked in the door, I pretended to ignore him. I was hoping that he would just go up to the bedroom and leave me be, but apparently his conscience was bothering him.

Derek approached the couch (which I hadn't moved from all day, except to pee) and knelt down before me, looking me in the eyes. It made me uncomfortable, so I tried to look away, but he wouldn't let me. When he wanted something, he was very persistent about it. I gave up, gave him what he wanted. As he took in my appearance, his features softened. He touched the bandage on my forehead gingerly and I flinched, and the concern in his eyes became more evident.

"I'm sorry." He stated simply, and I felt the tears in my eyes again. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry, of taking me into his arms and making everything all right again, but as much as I didn't want that to happen, I longed to be in his arms again, feeling as though he loved me as much as he once did. I was weak, and he was determined, so I fell against his chest, crying, and he consoled me, telling me the pretty lies that I had been longing to hear, the promises that I knew deep down would never be kept. He painted a pretty picture for me, and like a foolish child, I believed every word he said. I cleared my throat,

"You never opened your gift." I said, trying not to let the emotion seep into my voice, but the words coming out sounding broken nonetheless.

"Well, why don't I do that right now?" I nodded, not trusting myself to speak again, needing retain whatever semblance of composure I could muster. He lifted the small, meticulously wrapped parcel from the table beside the couch and gently unwrapped it, careful not to tear the paper. I bit my lip anxiously, hoping that he would like the gift. I felt like I was a little girl again, trying to please my father and make him care about me by giving him the best gift ever on Christmas morning. Every year I tried so hard, and every year he would nod his appreciation and set it aside, never looking at it again.

He opened the small box, revealing the small platinum Eiffel Tower cufflinks that I had agonized over for days. I had finally settled on them after reminiscing about our honeymoon in Paris. It had been the most perfect week of my life, and he had been the most perfect husband. If only I had known then what I now knew. He smiled and kissed me tenderly.

"Addison, they're perfect." His eyes were glowing in that absolutely dreamy way that they do, God, they have to be the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.

"Really?" I asked uncertainly, a small smile beginning to creep across my lips.

"Yes. Absolutely perfect." He replied, grinning, and I couldn't help but squeal and launch myself back into his arms. "Maybe someday we'll go back to Paris." He added, knowing that it was my favorite place in the world. I was appeased, and I believed what he said.

"That would be nice…" I sighed, resting back against his chest, allowing him to hold me.

"Addison?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm really sorry about this morning. I don't know what I was thinking. I know there's nothing I can do to make it up to you…I wasn't thinking." I buried my face in his shoulder

"Let's not talk about it." I said, not wanting to face the overwhelming pain that was threatening to swallow me. He held me a little tighter. I took a deep breath. "But, Derek, you have to know…you can't keep doing this. It's not fair. It hurts…it hurts. This isn't okay. You have to pay attention to me…you need to…show me that you love me, you know?" He didn't question what I meant, just continued to hold me and promised me that everything would be okay.

"Hey Ads, how did your head get sutured?"

"Mark." I stated, the emotions and wishes that I had earlier all flooding back into my head. Derek nodded.

"He's a good guy." I bit my lip to keep from crying, holding my tongue to keep from retorting, "_Why aren't you?"_


End file.
